


Seed Relay: Rhizophora

by TLI



Category: Rhizome
Genre: Coming Out, Coming of Age, Cruising, First Time, In Public, M/M, Oral Sex, Plants, Vines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 12:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17407106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLI/pseuds/TLI
Summary: Getting ghosted twenty years after the end of the world is the best thing that ever happened to me.





	Seed Relay: Rhizophora

I’ve known Aixerra since we were six. We were assigned to the same herbotheology seminary, and stayed in the same class for seven years until our region assignments came up. Then it was off to equatorial garden deployment for me. I heard Aixerra went to the Rhizophary Ministry but we couldn’t have kept in touch even if she weren’t. We were best friends. We did everything together, I looked up to her so much. She’s the first one who told me humans and plants used to live as equals. And now she’s back. Almost twenty years after we first met, Aixerra and I are in the same Municipenary.

Even when we were kids everyone said she was beautiful. And I could tell too. But now she’s hot. And she’s hotter than her strong body and curvy features. Aixerra oozes sex. It’s the way she makes eye contact while I’m struggling not to stare at her lips and chest. And the way she pushes me against a wall and pins me there with her full weight, saying she missed me, when we just saw each other two days ago.

But I don’t want to fuck Aixerra. That’s gross. I want to fuck her boyfriend.

Bleidd is three years younger than me but I was sure he’s older when we met. He’s taller than me, stronger than me, scores better on every herbotheology exam, and is more gentle than me. Bleidd is so hot looking at him makes my chest feel hollow and heart beat harder at the same time. Everytime I dream about Bleidd I wake up to the autowash fan air-cleaning my sheets. When we see each other, even when he’s with Aixerra, Bleidd embraces me in greeting and leaves his arm around my shoulders the entire rest of the conversation. He holds me with our hips together, outer legs touching, the back of my shoulder tight to the side of his chest. He asks how I’m doing, and tells a funny story about how they broke Aixerra’s sleeping pod since they are really only designed for one person.

I want to sink into him, and I want to feel his weight pressing me down until I can’t breathe, and I want to quench my thirst with his lips and tongue before dragging my face across his stomach and taking his wet dick in my mouth. Feeling his heartbeat through my lips, exploring every salty swell of him, at first patient and careful and then urgent, deep, strong as we lose ourselves to the frenzy and release.

That’ll never happen. It’s not for me. I know that. And I don’t care. I am so happy for Aixerra and Bleidd to be together. I know I don’t really want a relationship like theirs. I don’t really want the sex even. I want the fantasy.

Thinking about it like this I feel myself swelling. I feel crazy sometimes, I can’t control it. Today I’m walking to the cell transport relay on my way back from a seed genome pick up in 6YD. I can’t stop thinking about Bleidd’s dick, and I don’t want to. I turn off the main hall to the nearest biostation so I can jerk off before heading back to center. I can’t walk much faster than this, I open the door, walk to the nearest urinal, in one motion unmesh my pants and I spring out, already swollen and eager. My leafy stems flex, vivid green, a rush of relief as I feel the tingle of fresh air and CO2.

The real reason I don’t want to fuck Bleidd is I know he isn’t like me. There’s something I didn’t mention about myself yet. Something happened to me, before I was born I think. I don’t have a dick. At the base of my crotch grows a thick bloom of lush green leaves, red buds and pale flowers.

I don't know how it started. They say it was something about when the cathedral was destroyed 20 years ago, right before the Rhizophora disappeared. Something got in the water and infected us, about 4% of the population is like me though sometimes the surveys report infection rates below 1%. At first floralites were quarantined, and until the Citizens Decree 2 years ago there were a lot of regulations on our jobs and where we could live.

But I don't think it's a parasite or disease. I think maybe the Rhizophora love us, and the flora is their way to live with us, to live in us. Everyone says the Rhizophora hated humans and had to be destroyed. And maybe they’re right. Maybe they did hate us, and loved us at the same time and this is their way of showing it. That’s what feels true to me even if this answer is unsatisfying or confusing.

Being a floralite is not so bad. I need to give the flora air everyday or else they get sore. The flora are very sensitive. Under my clothes it feels like short cut grass, like sitting on the aquifer fields as a kid. Firm and comfortable, and I forget it's there. Exposed to air it feels like the breeze rustling leaves overhead, like running my hand over the top of acacia leaves, like flying lofted on the breeze. Just feeling they are there and enjoying the sensation of touching. And in the sun, it's amazing. I feel energy and life flow through me, glowing.

We can have sex with each other pretty much like old fashion humans, by exchanging pollen and mucal resin secreted by the buds. I’ve heard we can’t have bio-kids, but no one’s made kids from sex in a hundred years so whatever.

With my pants open the smell of fresh leaves and pollen fills the biostation. And I realize I’m not alone in here. There’s another guy five urinals to my left. I’m scared. I never open my flora to air in public restrooms, the smell is too distinct. And even if we aren’t officially regulated anymore, there’s a lot of anti-floralite anger and resentment in the population.

I’m staring at the wall-ads in front of me, feeling like an idiot and not sure what to do next. I can tell he’s staring at me. I look over and of course accidentally make eye contact. I immediately look away.

Short hair with the soft look that means he has it grow that way and doesn’t need to cut it ever. He’s taller than me. Wearing various shades of grey opaque soft mesh, probably means he works in aquaculture programming.

I’m staring at wall-ads again. I turn my head and make eye contact again for a split second, and see the man is changing urinals so he’s right next to me. Now we make eye contact and I don’t look away this time.

Over the holo separator between us, I can see his pants are open. And I see deep green leaves and dark red buds, vibrating and full.

He’s smiling. His eyes actually make him look kind of like Bleidd. Even if the hair and face are different.

“Hi. I’m Ardyn.”

I don’t know what to say.

“You smell good,” Ardyn says. He is so relaxed, and just chill. It’s as though he’s hanging out in his living room making conversation to a friend, not talking to a stranger in a biostation when we should both be getting back to work before the system notices. His demeanor reminds me of Bleidd too.

It occurs to me that something about him feels like me. Not his skin, not exactly his features, and his hair is different. He doesn’t look like the holos of me. But he looks like me still. He looks the way I feel. He looks calm, or maybe patient or detached are more accurate. Under it all he looks like maybe he wants something else out of life, that he doesn’t have yet.

I relax. I look down at his flora again, and let myself stare.

“Hi. You’re...like me.”

“Can I see?”

And suddenly we’re facing each other. With our pants open. Close enough that I lean back slightly as I look down to see him better. I don’t make any move to cover myself. He brushes the edge of my leaves with the side of his hand, so lightly I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. It is on purpose. I reach out and run one of his young tendrils through my hand, feeling the fragile vine in the sensitive skin between my fingers. This is fast. I like it.

I’d never looked at another floralite like this. I keep my growth trimmed, making sure to remove the buds before they become too fragrant. I cut them off when they’re just mature enough to not hurt too much. Ardyn’s grow is lush, every leaf luminous. In his excitement I see the fleshy stalks throbbing, and I truly know the flora are alive. Rampant. It’s wonderful.

“You’re uncut.”

Reaching out to me again he catches a leaf between his fingers and rubs. He pushes his fingers down into the tangle at the base of my flora, massaging gently, pushing the base of the stalks apart. I can feel the air on the parts he separates, that haven’t been exposed yet today.

His skin is lighter than mine. The green at the base of his flora looks darker than the skin it grows from, the green is more vibrant. It’s beautiful. Mine’s the opposite, the green seems paler growing out of my dark grey skin.

I’m so nervous my stomach hurts. I know I can just leave, walk away. I want to stay. I still have to force myself to not get out of here. I want this. Even if I can hear the voices of my parents and teachers telling me to leave it’s not right, it’s not safe. I don’t realize it in the moment, but this is me knowing what I want and letting myself get it.

I lean forward, sliding my smooth cheek along his, running my closed lips over his, feeling every detail with the skin around my mouth. We open our lips at the same time.

His tongue is bigger than mine. In this kiss I realize I never wanted big flora, I want his tongue to be thicker than mine, stronger than mine. The kiss taste of air and light, the deeper we kiss I can almost reach the scent of fresh chlorophyll.

My eyes are closed. One hand fits inside the opening at the front of his pants, holding the front of his hip and I have my other hand on his back. Ardyn is holding me completely, I don’t know where his hands or arms are exactly.

In the back of my mind, I know our flora are touching. The leaves pressing against each other, the vines waking up to each other. I know I want it, and I know the flora want it even more.

We’re still in our first kiss. It hasn’t been nearly long enough to explore his lips and teeth and gums, and I want badly to feel his tongue press through the corners of my mouth again. The wet darkness of the kiss with my eyes closed is perfect and I don’t want to leave.

My heart is pounding when I open my eyes and take a deep breath through my mouth. I keep eye contact while I crouch down, staying on the balls of my feet. My hands trail down Ardyn’s chest, pause on the opening of his pants, and hold and caress his flora.

I press my face to the luscious tangle of fronds and vines. My eyes are closed now, mouth slightly open, I breath in deeply, taking in the fertile smell of him. I breathe out, exhaling directly into the base of the flora, flooding them with CO2. Inhale and exhale, pressing my face, nose, eyelids and forehead to the stalks and bract of him, licking with my tongue. The dewy resin is flowing, there’s nothing rough just smooth glistening flora on my damp face. The humid air is intoxicating.

I am outside my body. My entire conscience is in the thin space of contact between my mouth and lips and face and flora. I breathe out, blowing into him, and my consciousness is in every molecule of CO2 drifting into the flora’s chemoreceptors. This is peace, this is oblivion.

Between my bent legs, my pants still open, my own flora twine through the air. My heart is beating strong that the small vines spasm and grasp, yearning to latch on to something firm. I pull my face from the flora, Ardyn’s own tendrils spring loose from where they grew along my scalp.

As I stand Ardyn slides his hands across my chest, shoulders and down my arms. He holds my hips, then pulls my pants down completely and waits for me to pull his pants down below his knees too. Ardyn changes his stance to place one leg in front, between mine. I do the same, and we carefully match the base of our flora together, and let the growth do the rest.

My blood is pumping harder and harder, and my tendril vines twitch faster than I’ve ever seen. The vines now have enough flow to move completely on their own, to intertwine and graft to each other. Our tendrils slides across glistening leaves, seeking resin and pollen and life. They find it and feed and throb and pump and thicken, squeezing tighter and closer.

Our body heat is burning. Heat from skin and breath and flora.The heat of the sun. The heat of blood, and flora, and rhizophora. Heat flows from the sun to me and through. The heat makes us one.

Release comes. A burst of sunlight flows through my body, cleansing, invigorating, tranquilizing. An infinite cocoon wraps us, protection and incubation. I am heat and light, barely contained.

My body is shaking. My legs aren’t supporting me. I feel my weight through the flora, still wrapped in Ardyn’s.

“We better go.”

“What’s your registration index? Can we meet tomorrow?”

“Find me here.”

I saw Ardyn exactly one more time. We locked eyes among the crowd while we passed in the transport relay outflow passage. He smiled, and I didn’t react fast enough to smile back. I didn’t look away either though.

For a while I couldn’t stop thinking about Ardyn, every second everyday. I looked in the same biostation whenever I had seed work in the area. I never found Ardyn again, but when I’d linger I found a few others.

So what am I looking for now? Or did I find whatever it was I wanted out of life? I don’t know. But I feel good. And my flora are thriving. Maybe that’s the point, and if it’s not I still have my eyes open.

Oh yeah, and few years later, when Aixerra and I eventually were assigned to the same relocation team colony ship, I did fuck Bleidd.


End file.
